Elvira
by stretched rubbersoul
Summary: Elvira and her Girls ran Tourtuga Town. Whores, yet justified, all hell breaks loose when CJS steals their hidden cashe of money, and she is led from one thing to another. Though love is never far.
1. Intro, and meeting in a kitchen

**Intro**

The five whores that ran the more rundown part of Tourtuga Town were basically the law. As every man knew, there was no law and order in Tourtuga itself; though attempts had been made for martial. Yes, it was a lawless town. A hideaway for pirates, a place for drunks and scoundrels who wanted a good time with an experienced woman, though they had kids and a wife at home wondering where they were.

The leader of the small gang was named Elvira, an alias that no one but herself knew. She had seen her fair share of drunken men, and slums. Her and her four girls lived in a two room shanty just outside of the part of Tourtuga Town they ran. She was the prettiest too. Her brazen red hair running a curly muck around her head and shoulders, falling to her back in a tantalizing way. She had green eyes, which suggested an Irish heritage, but her accent was schooled to sound like nothing, but everything. With a small chin, and upturned nose, coupled with arching eyebrows and high cheekbones. She could be anything you wanted her to. She definitely was the best paid whore around. She couldn't name a single client, except a few that kept coming back for more.

Her troupe, however, weren't quite like her. Elvira had taken them in under her wing.

There was Viola, Passion, Oriana, and Ruth.

The best possible descriptions go as this;

Viola was the second best looking. Her raven hair was straight as straw, but with a small flip. She kept it shorter then most, and often put it in rags to giver her a more sultry look. She had violet eyes, that attracted men, and sent them packing shortly after. She was curvy, whereas Elvira was skinny.

Passion was all skill. She had dirty blonde hair, and brown eyes. Nothing special, but she was great in what the men wanted. Her heart shaped face suggested pouting was also a specialty.

Oriana was pretty though. She too had blonde hair, but it was more golden. It was wavy, and she wore it up in a twist and let tendrils hang down seductively around the nape of her neck...men seemed to love that. Her grey eyes were almond shaped and her round face made you think simultaneously of a baby that men wanted to cuddle, and a vixen that you wanted to chase.

And then there was Ruth. The youngest out of them all. Barely seventeen she was just learning the streets around her. The brown halo called hair framed her face well...almost too well. She kept it swept up in a fashionable undo. She had green eyes, but they weren't like Elvira's. They were a paler, and sometimes, when angry, they would flash velvety blue.

All of the Girls were pretty, some in different ways. They shared the pallor that came with spending your waking hours at night, if they slept at all. Each with creamy white skin, they applied little rouge, for then they would not only be whores, but tramps as well. However, if you asked any random Tourtugan, they would say that Elvira was their first choice. She was everyone's first choice.

**Chapter one: A meeting in the depths of a kitchen**

Elvira was wandering her usual street, smiling pretty at the men, deciding which was worth her time. Oriana was two alleys over, and by the sounds that were carried by the light wind, giving some man a time of their life. She smiled, because it wasn't even in a bed. Then again, their own beds were only used for the most respectable clients, that paid more then a pound. It all dealt on how you worked them. Give them just a little, always keep them wanting more. It was the saying of the whores of Tourtuga Town. They lived by it. It was their ten commandments. And heaven forbid if you broke them.

"How much you offerin'?" Elvira shook her head at a passing drunk. He could barely keep himself clothed. It wasn't worth her time.

When she did get money, she stored it away. No one knew exactly for, but she would spend a parcel of it on food, though the Girls helped with that too. She wore the same dress every day for a week, then would change it out for another one. She only owned three. All a deep blue and almost threadbare velvet. It was hard finding clothes that gave the men a taste of what they were looking for...but it was Tourtuga Town, and if there was any a place for such garments that would make a respectable lady blush and think they wouldn't do for under things, it was Tourtuga.

Elvira turned left down Cherry Tree Hill St. and found it literally dead. But, she walked down it anyways. As she was nearing the end, that led to Way Bl. when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. Turning just in time, so as not to get bowled over, she caught just a glimpse of a man running, followed by three men that could only be described as thugs.

The chased man threw back an apology for his hurriedness and was soon gone, the other men paying no mind to a whore on the streets.

By the time the sun was starting to rise, and Elvira made around ten pounds, she headed home, nothing but sleep on her mind. She passed other whores she knew as she walked the quarter mile to the shanty town inhabited by other whores and caches for renegade pirates.

The Girl's shanty was more in the middle of the town, and when she opened the door, calling out for the other girls, she gave a start at a man standing in what they called their kitchen, though it was more of a living room/dining room/and bedroom. He was the man who had almost run into her in the alley on Cherry Tree.

"Elv, this man needs a place to hide." Viola sauntered out of the other small room, her hips swaying beautifully as she walked, scantily clad, to where Elvira was now standing. She shut the door, so as not to let the cool dawn air into the room.

This man was handsome enough. His brown eyes were raised at the thought of being in a shack with five whores. He had a tricorn hat on, over dirty hair that looked like it had been ravaged by wolves. His sunken cheeks gave him a brooding look, and high cheekbones mad one think he was most likely from an upstanding family. He was definitely a pirate. His clothes screamed it, and Elvira almost stated it, though she would have sounded stupid. After getting her fill of his face, she gave a curt nod.

"How long?"

"Just until the hit men have cooled off a bit." Elvira put down her small pouch she kept strung around her waist, on the table, and gave the man a touch-it-and-die look. He gave her a blank one in return.

"What's your name?" Elvira pulled off the fingerless gloves she wore and unpinned the sides of her hair she had up.

"What's yours?" This man was impossible.

"I asked first."

"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service," He swept an elaborate bow, with wild hand gestures and rose haughtily, as if he owned the place. Elvira's eyebrows rose in interest.

If this man was telling the truth, then he was not only wealthy, but the most feared pirate in the seas, as well as wanted. Unlike most pirates, this man liked keeping his name in gossip, and Elvira reckoned that half of the rumors weren't close to truth.

"Elvira." She said shortly, and walked into the only other room. On the large bed that was their pride and joy, slept Passion and Ruth, curled up like kittens. She changed into her only night shift, and went back out into the other room.

Sparrow was now sitting at the small table, watching Viola's every move lazily. She was teasing him, leading him on. She only had on a kimono she had nicked from a doctor's wife's house when she and the doctor snuck it. It was open in the front, sometimes giving the man a great view she had to offer.

"Just to let you know," Elvira said cooly to Sparrow. "If you steal anything, I will hunt you down and kill you." The pirate laughed, and shook his head.

"I know all about you, Elvira and her Girls. I know you are practically the law here in this part of Tourtuga town. I fancy my life a bit too much to meddle with you." Elvira relaxed a bit then. This man's voice sounded sincere, and at least he knew who she was. She gave a nod, and grabbed the bottle of gin they kept full by the smaller bed in the first room.

"Drink?"

"I don't drink gin, Miss." Elvira noted wryly that he at least got her title right.

"A man who doesn't drink?"

"Hardly." She sat down opposite him in the only other chair, taking a large swig. "I only touch rum."

"Ah...pirate to the blood then, eh?"

"You got it." Elvira got up again, and touched the collar of Sparrow's jacket fleetingly, before striding out of the room, and joining Passion and Ruth in the bed.

"I doubt you will get her." Sparrow's head snapped from the place Elvira had been back to where Viola was standing. She had her hands on her hips, and the kimono opened wide.

"Oh?"

"She is the best whore around, Sparrow. You know that. Remember with me? Try five times better." She said it with some bitterness, though Viola herself did respect Elvira. She took the bottle of gin and put it back in its place. Oriana walked in then, letting a titch of sunlight with her. She threw down four shillings on the table, and then fell asleep in the smaller of the beds.

"I hope you like the dirt floor." Viola snorted, crawling into bed besides Oriana.

"Ah come on! Give a man some warmth and let me slide in there between the two of ya." Viola closed her eyes, a smirk on her face.

Sparrow shook his head. This was an odd place indeed. Yet, he liked Tourtuga Town. You never knew what you would find, and to some, a house full of whores wasn't out of the ordinary. But he felt lucky in finding this one.


	2. The bet

A/n: I know its spelled Tortuga, but this is Tourtuga Town, in Tortuga (the island in Haiti) itself. Its all very complicated. Im not sure if they really used the F word a lot back then, but in this story, they do. Just bare with me, please? More reviewsmore chapters.

Chapter two: Wanna bet?

Elvira slowly opened her eyes, feeling something was wrong. Perhaps it was just being overtired, or maybe it was because there was a strange man in their front room. Whatever it was, made El get up, and walk out into aforementioned front room.

Everything was fine. The man was gone, Viola and Oriana were asleep peacefully on the small bed, and nothing seemed amiss.

However, something made Elvira go over to the table, and reach under it. For one horrifying moment, she felt nothing. Getting down on her hands and knees, on the cool dirt floor, she craned her neck to look at the top's bottom. It wasn't there.

"Everyone, get the hell up, NOW!" Elvira screamed, sitting up, and dusting her bare knees off. She yelled it again, and slowly everyone conjoined around her, by the table.

"Who the fuck let that pirate into this damn house?" All of the Girls were looking at her groggily, and with some irritation of being woken up.

"I did." Viola croaked, grinding the sleep out of her eyes with small fists. She ran her fingers through her hair, and rotated her neck.

"And you just fell asleep on him? All our fucking money is gone!" The Girls' eyes were wide, and small Ruth was clinging to Passion's arm.

"Well, why did he take it?" She squeaked. "It wasn't like he needed–" El rounded on her.

"He was a fucking pirate, slag. Even if they are in a hangman's noose, they would steal the gold from his pocket." Elvira snarled, and shoved a finger in the frightened girls face.

"Watch who your calling a slag." Oriana muttered, and walked in between the two women. "We all are. Now, all you have to do, Vera, is go into Tortuga itself, and ask around for the man. Come one, anyone would help you, just whisper in their ear that you are from Tourtuga Town, and they will most deff come running to help. You'll get the money." Good ole Oriana, always the peacemaker. It was hard to live in the same small confinements with other whores, all vying for a mans attention. But they somehow manage to pull it off. No matter what, they stayed together.

"Fine." Elvira muttered, and went to wash up for the night.

* * *

She found Sparrow easily. He was in the most crowded and known bar, in the corner, talking to some whore. Elvira smiled wickedly, she would have some fun.

"Hey, Mary." She walked up to Sparrow and the whore called Mary, and over painted tart who liked pirates more then anything.

"Oh, hey Vi." Mary smiled, but it was a he's-mine type of smile. Sparrow was visibly shrinking from the two whores, and was looking for all exits.

"I just wanted to let you know bout this one." Elvira pointed a thumb at the pirate. "S'got a nasty rash. Contagious too." Mary jumped up from his knee, and without another word, quickly ran from the bar, a few catcalls following her.

"Whadaya do that for?" Sparrow demanded, now more concerned about the whore then the fact he had stolen money from the Girls of Tourtuga Town.

"I want my fucking money, Sparrow." Elvira hissed, pushing his chest so he hit the wall he was leaning against. She straddled his waist, and brought her face very close to his.

"Now." She breathed, then licked the side of his face, temple to chin. His breathing was rapid, in hot gusts on her face. His breath smelled like stale rum, and some fruit mixed in one. His eyebrows were up in a look of amazement.

However, instead of kissing him, Elvira quickly grabbed him where it hurts.

"I am strong enough to tear them all the way off, Sparrow. I want my fucking money back." Sparrow's whole body was tense, and obviously in pain. He slowly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a large lump wrapped in a cheese cloth. It was her money. He handed it over, and only after Elvira's hand was clutching it, did she let go of his privates.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Yeah...right." Sparrow gasped. Elvira got up off of him, and sat down opposite him at the table in the corner. She put two fingers up, and the barman came over with a shot glass of whiskey, and another decanter of it.

"Thanks, Lou." The barman nodded, and walked away.

"Even I cant get him to do that!" Sparrow said indignantly, after the man called Lou was out of earshot. Elvira shrugged, then downed the small shot. After she turned it upside down, and fiddled with it a while, did she speak.

"So...'Ill never cross Elvira and her Girls', eh?"

"I didn't say that." Jack took a swig from his bottle of rum, and Elvira took another shot of whiskey. It was foxy, and almost watered down tasting, but she felt like she needed the warmth. After he third shot, she snorted.

"I was para...para...well, I was doing whatever it was, idiot."

"Paraphrasing?"

"Yeah, that's it." She let out a large belch, but was in no way even buzzed. Elvira turned the decanter around and around on the table, making a light scratching sound.

"Why are you still here?" Sparrow suddenly asked, eyebrows way in the air.

"What? You mean, why am I still alive? Well, I am Catholic, and to kill myself would be a mortal sin. Though, killing your baby while still inside you is too, but we wont talk about that. Or perhaps you mean in Tortuga, or Tourtuga Town? Well, thats what the moneys for." She lifted up the money in the cheese cloth that was still tightly in her hand.

"No...god you are dim, even for a slag." Sparrow rolled his eyes. "I meant, here, now? You have your money, you can leave."

"But Im not gunna." Elvira gave a wicked smirk, and leaned back more on the chair. "I am going to make sure you have no fun romps tonight. Or tomorrow." She took her foot and rubbed it against his leg a bit, then dropped it.

"You are no lady."

"You are no gentleman. Im a whore, whats your excuse?"

"Im a pirate." They stared each other down for a moment, then Sparrow smiled.

"I bet you couldn't last a month in a respectable house, with maids, and actual food that isn't rotting."

"Oh yea, I love disgusting crumbling bread so much, I shrink from anything fresh!"

"And I bet–" Sparrow continued over her. "You my ship, and an island full of treasure, that you couldn't do it." Elvira suddenly became very quite.

"Just how much treasure?"

"More than the king."

"That's an awful lot." Sparrow crossed his arms over his chest, and kicked up his boots on her lap.

"How bout this?" He rubbed his goateed chin, and thought for a moment. "I gotta go a few places, and will be gone for a month. I will take you to my good friends place, respectable young man he is, and have him and his wife help train you. When I come back, and if you are a respectable lady, with _manners_–" He emphasized that word when she spread her legs out away from her body, and let out another belch.

"–I will happily hand you my ship, and the coordinates for the island. What say you?"

Elvira actually thought about it. It would mean leaving her Girls behind, and putting on a farce she didn't care too much for, but then...just think of the money! She could easily sell the well known and wanted ship, plus the money from the cave...her and her Girls could easily move out of Shanty Town and into a sprawling castle.

"Deal." She stretched out a fingerless gloved hand, and shook the pirates rough and strong one.

"Deal."

* * *

"No way, Jack!" Elizabeth yelled, shutting the door of the drawing room behind her, and rounding on the old friend.

"There is no way I am letting some slag into my home, just for a bet!" She closed her eyes and gave a small shudder. Will was silent in the corner of the living room, more amused then anything.

"Oh just let her, Liz." Jack begged. "My honor is on this. I said she couldn't become respectable like you. And you are the only person I would trust with this. You have the best manners, and the best hair, and the best bre–"

"That's enough, Jack." Will cut in, knowing where he was going with that last one.

"Just let her stay!" Jack was pouting now, and Elizabeth was having a hard time in trying to keep a straight face.

"I'll pay ya for the expenses, and the lot. Get her some dresses and shoes, and bonnets, and all that other junk you ladies put on so it makes it harder for a man to get in..." He broke off, obviously thinking about something else. "Anyways, just do it, please! You owe me one." He pointed out.

"He's right." Will shrugged.

"Oh, you just want her to stay, because she supposedly the best whore in Tortuga itself." Elizabeth snapped at her husband. Will raised his shoulders.

"Its true." Jack pointed out.

"How good is she?" Will asked.

"Will!" He looked away quickly, and became suddenly interested in the wall paper.

"Just please?"

"Fine!" Elizabeth gritted out between clenched teeth. "But if she steals something," She let the threat hang open.

"I will pay for it," Jack agreed. They stood there stupidly, until they realized that aforementioned whore was just in the other room.

Elizabeth smoothed her hair and gown, and opened the double doors back up.

"Of course you can stay here, Elvira...is that your real name?" Elizabeth was now chipper, and Jack reveled in how a woman could run hot and cold so fast.

"Only on Tuesdays...yes, it is." Elvira said after the articulate and pretty woman looked confused.

"And thanks." Jack said, bowing out of the room altogether, and leaving.

"Your ship is mine, Sparrow!" Elvira called after him, he just gave her a hand flip that was very feminine.


	3. All's fair in tramps and ships

Chapter three: All's fair in tramps and ships

Anamaria couldn't readily believe what had just been said. In fact, she was standing in front of her old friend and former captain, with her mouth agape. Really, she could have smacked him for what he just said. They way she felt about the _Black Pearl_ was practically how he does. Did...by the sounds of it. Imagine! A trollop to boot! She was livid.

"She is a bloody jade, Jack! A fucking slag!" Jack was taken aback by his old friends language, and drew his head back in surprise.

"But you see...I don't intend on giving it to her. Im not quite that doltish." Anamaria felt like delivering a stinging blow, and almost raised her itching hand, but kept it clenched at her side.

"So you turn dishonorable on us then?" Jack laughed at her anger, and put a hand on each of her strong shoulders.

"Love, Im a pirate. You know that, I know that, she knows it too. All's fair in tramps and ships." Anamaria rolled her eyes, and tried to get out of Jack's grip.

"If you are so lax with you ship, you should have just given it to me."

"Nah..too easy."

"I have a crew to be attending to." She snapped, and Jack threw up his arms, giving her and innocent look. She stalked off. Jack watched her go, admiring her luscious rump.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Port Royal, Elvira was having a horrid time; trying to make an apple pie.

"I don't see how this affects my bein' a lady." She grunted, smacking the dough for the crust all too readily.

"Its 'being'." Elizabeth said irritably from one of the stools that surrounded the cooking island in the large kitchen.

"Let me ask you something, Miss Elizabeth," Elvira gritted out, dusting her hands free of the flour and straightening up.

Anyone looking at her would have thought she looked delicious, like the pie. She had on a dress. An actual dress with petticoats and a corset that was synched as tight as can be, but she was still able to breath. She had an apron thrown over the wonderful creation of yellow silk and taffeta, and her red hair was pulled up in the type of up-do Ruth would wear. Her face was powdered with flour on each cheek, and she was beautifully rumpled. Simply scrumptious.

"How exactly can you afford this house, when you don't work...and your husband is a blacksmith?" Elvira rubbed her nose, and flour was on that too.

"Father is the one who bought this house for us. Now, don't over work the dough. It will become tough and hard to eat once cooked." Elvira dispelled the urge to pick up a clump of dough and throw it at the woman. Anything and everything was being closely monitored...just for Sparrow.

"What are the ladies up to?" Will entered the kitchen, then took a step back on seeing Elvira and Elizabeth glaring each other down.

"Apple pie for desert, then." He turned on his heel, and put his hand on the door, but stopped.

"Oh yeah, we are having a few guests over tonight. Four, to be exact." With a knowing smile, he walked out of the kitchen...almost dreading, however, that night's dinner.

* * *

"Captain, do you have a few screws loose?" Jack glanced down at the bold cabin boy.

"Shouldn't you be doing something?" He asked rudely. The cabin boy shrugged, but stood there still. Jack never felt too comfortable around this one. His name was Kian, something he doubted was real. If anything could be said about his looks, was the he was too good looking. He had tan skin that everyone acquired on a ship, brown, and black eyes. He was too bloody gorgeous. And that was sickening to Jack.

And what was with everyone yelling at him anyways? Just because he _said_ he would give up his baby, didn't mean that he was actually _going _to. Geesh! Everyone was harping on him, and now, this lowly little cocky cabin boy was. Jack shooed him away from the helm, and he gracefully jumped, instead of using the five stairs. Jack rolled his eyes, and went back to his helm.

"Shes a bloody whore! Its not like Im telling a lady to be a lady." Jack yelled at Sam, who gave him an odd look. He was walking up to Jack, about to say something.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind...whadaya want?" Jack pushed his hat back, scratched his head, and shoved the floppy thing back onto his mess of hair.

"Well...just...I dunno. Im done with everything you told me to do." Sam lowered his eyebrow, and stood at the ready. Constantly vigilant, and always on the lookout. Perfect pirate...perfect man for the job. Jack watched him for a moment, then sighed.

"You can trail Kian for me. I just don't trust em." Jack was silent a moment longer. "Do you think I'm being dim?"

"For betting your ship?" Instantly, Sam knew what he was talking about. He gave a shake of his head, blonde hair flying. "Nah. Its your own ship. And like you said, she is a whore. Its not too easy to be a lady, when whorish things are all you know."

"Amen to that." Jack said piously, looking heavenward.


	4. Rendevous

Chapter four: Rendevous

Elvira slowly picked her way through the ragged streets, leading to the place she knew taverns, drunks, and whores frequented. It was no Tourtuga Town, but it was close enough.

Her dress...no, gown...was slightly torn at the shoulder, and the slippers she had abandoned for bare feet that did not smart on the cobble stones as most women's would, but it was a consolation to be out of those heals. She took out the pins in her red brazen hair, letting it fall to her back in the way it used to back in Tortuga. She was relaxing, coming down off of tenterhooks as she slowly made her way to the bar, the worst looking one.

A fight was taking place outside of the entrance, Elvira looked down in slight bemusement and stepped over the brawling men, and into the dark seclusion of Krakens Hideaway. It made her instantly wish for home, for this was not exactly like the bars there. It was a tad more clean, and a slight better smelling. She sat down at a table, and acquainted herself with her surroundings.

"Was' a pretty lady like you doin' here?" Elvira glanced up to see a dark man standing over her. His greasy wavy hair fell past his shoulders, and if it was just the light, to Elvira it looked like it was dripping grease. His face had a hawk like appearance, and his eyes, steel grey, were piercing and observant. Without her leave, he sat down backwards on the chair opposite her and placed his chin on long fingered hands. He wore all black; breeches, tunic, vest, boots, and traveling cloak. He was lean, and she would bet her life that he was stronger then most.

"Whats it to you?" She instantly replied, though knowing it wasn't one to fool with. He let out a laugh that sounded more like a piece of metal being mauled by wood.

"Nothing, sweeting, just wonderin. You look like you belong up in the Town," Elvira let out a snort, and crossed her legs under the heavy dress.

"Not likely. Well then, stranger, what's your name?" The man chuckled again, and sat up straighter.

"Jerome. And you, lovely?" She was used to those comments. Used to the things men would call her. She didn't care, she was looking for a bit of money, but she knew she couldn't needle this man too much.

"Elvira." No need for last names, there never were.

"Interesting. That still doesn't answer why you are here, in this heap, when you look like a princess." His way of talking, articulate and slurred at the same time. As if you were reading them and the lines were fuzzy, but still clear.

"I don't belong here, in Port Royal. I live in Tourtuga Town. In fact, Im gunna remidy that real quick like. Real quick like indeed." The man named Jerome reached out to touch her torn sleeve, but a hand came down fast on his shoulder. Surprised, Elvira looked up, and let out a gasp.

Obviously, Sparrow didn't recognize her, as his grip tightened on the mans shoulder. He was feeling an odd sort of mixture. He had witnessed this woman slowly saunter into the bar and sit down. She knew what she was doing, but she didn't belong there. Sparrow knew this man, knew him too well for his liking. A brute who beat women and if he was drunk, would go so far as to kill them in blind rage. This woman didn't know what she was getting herself into.

Jerome turned his head and looked at the hand clasped on his shoulder. It was an ugly scene that followed. First, he jumped up, and twisted Sparrow's arm. However, Sparrow easily slipped out of his grip and threw a punch. The men exchanged a few throws, until finally, Sparrow pulled out a pistol, and pointed it straight at the mans forehead.

Jerome threw up his hands, panting slightly, and gave a sneer, his top lip curling as he spat, "Sparrow. Indeed, you are a pirate. Here, take the wench, she's not worth it." He walked out of the bar, his reputation hurt worse then his nose.

Only then, did Sparrow turn to look at Elvira. Registration of who she was dawned on him, and before she could get out of the chair, he grabbed her out of it himself, and hauled her up onto his left shoulder. After saluting jauntily to the barman with his pistol, Sparrow all but strutted out of the run down part of the Town, through Port Royal's many alleyways, and to the docks. Trying hard not to drop his struggling cargo and keep her quite, they finally managed to a rowboat tied to a pier, and after almost tipping over twice and having to grab hold of the woman to keep her from jumping, did they get to his large ship the _Black Pearl_.

When it was in sight, Elvira's eyes went wide and she was still as she gazed in awe of the vessel before her. It was truly beautiful, and Sparrow took advantage of her silence and heaved her over the railing, she landing none to pleasantly on the hard wood decks. Sparrow easily followed, and after landing on deck as graceful as a cat, he sraightened, up, heaving an agitated Elvira with him.

"Sam?" He called, his voice rough with authority. A large and burly man came out of a group of crew members, his face clearly reading interest.

"Aye..." Sam said slowly, crossing two massive arms over his chest.

"Take Ms. Vira to a locked cabin, savvy? Make sure you deliver the key to only me, and no one else. Its for your safety," He added in an undertone to Elvira who had just hissed in protest. Sam took the woman from Jack's hands and tossed her on his shoulder like a sack of sugar. She screamed out profanities that would make a sailor blush, but set the crew to laughing and jeering.

"Sir?" Jack glanced around and saw Kian, who was smiling slightly.

"What is it?" Jack asked wearily, rubbing his temples.

"Is that the whore?"

"Aye..that be the whore."


	5. Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite

Chapter five: Being for the benefit of Mr. Kite.

Elvira frowned down into her mug and muttered something.

"What, love?" Jack asked, noticing how loudly he spoke. They were both sitting in his cabin, having a drink. He had long since let her out of her locked cabin after they were out to sea, and she was now happily toasted opposite him.

"Bloody empty," She said louder, and reaching for the large skin of rum. With a deft hand, Jack pushed it away from her grasp, causing Elvira to frown up at him. She was a heavy drinker, which knocked him out a few too many more skins then he would have preferred

But something was causing her to drink so much, something was bothering her.

"Love, you've had enough."

"Yer slurring yer words," Elvira slurred, blinking and shaking her head slightly. She ran her fingers through her hair, and snorted.

"Ye know, I fink Im gunna cut it." Elvira decided against it, and focused now on staring avidly at the large bottle of rum just out of her reach.

"Hand me the bottle," She was still staring at it.

"No, you've 'ad enough," Ah yes, he was feeling it more now. He wanted to sleep, but he felt like he couldn't rest until he knew she would stop.

"Give it to me," She said dangerously low.

"No. You're a lush, and you don't need it." Instantly, her head snapped up, and she gave him a cold stone sober stare.

"A lush, am I?" She no longer slurred her words, but they were sharp and piercing.

"Yes. Only a well-advanced drinker could take down so many bottles as you have. You couldn't out drink me, however..."

"No one can out drink me, Sparrow. Not even you. So tell me, what did you really lure me in here for?" Damn that girl! Jack thought. He must have been wrong about her intelligence. No, he knew what it was. She just plays the part of the dumb whore. She must have been educated somehow down the line, which is unusual in women anyway. Yes, this woman had something to hide.

"Just to...talk." He chose his words carefully. Jack had to play this one right, if he didn't, then he was screwed.

"No one talks to whores, not even you. If we were on the streets of Tourtuga Town, and I had gold in my hand, you wouldn't want to be talking." She rose to her full height in the chair, and narrowed her eyes, her brows meeting in the frown.

"But I wouldn't have you on the streets of Tourtuga Town. Even a pirate captain has some sort of pride and dignity."

"Yes," Elvira sneered. Jack was beginning to think that she was an angry drunk. "Pride. Pride that you need a whore at all, and women aren't fawning over you. You are handsome, I admit, but your too swarthy and stupid for women to really want you. That's why you need whores. That's why you had Mary on your lap a while ago."

She had a wonderful memory, Jack sulked. Too good. She was street smart as well. There could be no manipulating this woman.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Jack decided playing stupid and using brute force would be necessary in order to play out his plans.

"You wanted to speak to me." Elvira growled. She was by no means drunk. Not even close enough to touch that factor. She was just playing his attention, trying to test him on how far he would go with a drunken whore. So far, his integrity(or lack thereof) was surprising. She crossed her bare arms over her chest, and glared openly at him.

Elvira still wore the same dress she had been led off in two weeks prior. She smiled at thinking what Elizabeth would say about the state of the expensive thing, and that made her keep it on, though the long sleeves had been ripped, the hem was ragged, and there was a tear near the hip. She simply delighted at being frumpy again.

"Yes. It is the terms of which our bet was placed." Jack said, trying to woo her with words now. If she wanted a verbal battle, she will get it.

"What terms? The only ones we bet on, was if I won. If I won, I got your ship and some treasure island. What of it?"

"Well..." Jack said, standing up on almost unsteady feet, and pacing around the small table. "Beings as you most definitely didn't win,"

"How do you say!"

"ON the terms that you were in the filthiest tavern in Port Royal, talking to a pimp(yes, they did use pimp back then...I looked it up). Naturally, you lost the bet. But we never discussed what happens if _I _win."

Instantly, Elvira felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had no clue what this pirate was capable of, and worse still, what he could and most willingly would do. The look in his eye said that he had something planned. Something no mere person would think of lightheartedly or in jest.

"Wait...we never said anything about your winnings in our bet. So, naturally, it is void of anything. If I lost, then that is that, I cant be a lady. Im a whore, and I can accept that. I get a lot of...pleasure at my job and of people knowing as well. The polite society all have a large poker up their arses, because they are hypocrites. They say that they are chaste, when they sneak out at night to go have a mad romp in a barn."

Yes. She had distracted him momentarily. Keep it up, missy, she told herself.

"Who does that?" Jack asked, enthralled by her observations.

"Oh, I think the maid once," She smiled, knowing he was thinking of his friends. Jack's face fell at the disappointment, but then remembered their conversation.

"Yes, well, if I won the bet, I must have won _something,_"

"But it wasn't in our agreement. I am rather bored with all this talk, and I think I shall go to my cabin." Elvira stood up and frowned down at her bare feet. She flexed her toes and started towards the door, only the be stopped by a strong hand on her elbow.

"I won. Therefore I want something from you." Elvira swirled around to gaze up at him in a cold way.

"Well then you must _pay _for it. Im a prostitute. Not a bitch in heat twenty-four/seven." Jack grabbed both of her forearms, pulling her towards himself. Her clenched fists rested against his chest, helpless in his grip.

"I don't want some filthy whore," He said in a husky voice betraying his words. "I think you should like where you are going. Very...nice." Jack bent down and gave her a savage kiss before tossing Elvira from him and leaving her to clutch a chair for support.

* * *

London. Gray and drab as always. Elvira thought she had left it so long ago, but now she was back on the cobblestone streets. Men were walking quickly from one destination to another. Women were scarce, but they were around. Occasionally she would glance a figure lurking in the shadows, a delicate leg, or a bit of a lacy stocking visable. Yes, they were everywhere...and they will always be in the alleyways, hoping that one day it would either end in death or wealth. Though it always was the fore, never the latter.

"What are we doing in London?" Elvira asked savagely. Sam, who was currently holding the rope bound to her wrist and ankles, looked down at her, something almost like mirth in his eyes.

"Cap'n says Im not to talk to the captives,"

"Well you may tell your captain"– Sam gave an almost joint popping yank of the rope, and she fell silent for a moment. Grimacing when she walked, she glanced down at her ankles being rubbed raw by the rope, and her feet(still unshod) that were near black with dirt and other forms of filth.

"Why are we in London? What does the captain plan for me?" This time Elvira asked with a turn of a shoulder, and a flutter of eyelashes. She could see Sam raise an eyebrow.

"Im not supposed to say, now shut up or your feet will no longer be a part of yer body." Elvira scowled, and started when everyone stopped in front of a large brownstone building.

"This is it," Jack said happily, and without knocking first, they all tramped in...well, she more like was pulled, but never the less, they all tramped in.

"Mr. Kite!" Jack called out, as Elvira got a good look around. The house was nice, she figured that much for sure. With light oak floors and a cheery apple green on the walls. A few lamps were lit, for the gray overcast skies, but none the less, the house was nice.

"Ah! Mr. Sparrow! Oh, sorry, Captain Sparrow. Pardon my blunders. Is this the woman you say shall enhance the altogether wonderful ways of my threatre acts? She looks rather dour. Smile dear, you have nothing to frown about. My Lord! Why do you have those ropes about her? She cant go that far in this house. Untie them!"

Elvira's head spun as a handsome man came around the corner, and spoke all of this at once. His dark brown, almost black, hair was slicked back, he had on a crisp white shirt, black vest and breeches with black knee high boots. His handlebar mustache was perfectly symmetrical, and his dark eyes were merry. He had the most beautiful bone structure Elvira had ever seen, and was instantly attracted to this man.

"Well, we don't want to be taking any chances, Kite," Jack said, jabbing a thumb at the bound woman.

"Very well. Now, how much do I owe you?"

How dare he! Elvira inwardly screamed. Selling her? To a man who would probably prostitute her worse then she ever had been, and take all her earnings. Of course. She should have known it. Anything for a bit of gold. He had tried to steal hers, but when she called him out on it, he sold her. He sold her to some stranger. She was now his property, and that irked Elvira the most.

"That should do it," The man called Mr. Kite said, handing over a small satchel that clinked wonderfully with gold. Jack gave a curt bow, and before she could utter a word, he and Sam were gone from the house.

Elvira turned to look with an open mouth at the handsome man, who was smiling pleasantly at her, nothing in his eyes but kindness.

"Im sure we can get Victoria to get you into some clean clothes and have your ankles looked at to make sure there is nothing wrong or any infection. I don't want you to work tonight, but tomorrow I would like for you to have something up."

"And Victoria is...?" Elvira asked, confused.

"Oh yes, she is our leading lady. Beautiful damsel if there ever was one. But ever since the Twins left, we haven't exactly been coming up to trumps like we used to.

"Twins?"

"Yes, Hector and Lector. They were midgets. The crowds loved them."

"It's like a bloody circus," Elvira said more to herself. Mr. Kite smiled at her, confused as to her recent revelations.

"Well of course it is dear. That's what we are, a circus. Im the ringleader, Mr. Kite. I thought you knew?" He frowned that her captors had not spoken about where she was going. This would make it harder on himself, of course.

"No," Elvira said bitterly. "I had no clue."


	6. The History of the Whore

**Ok, I know this is a bit ahead of its time, and there is even a Beatles quote that I thought fit...but bare with me, please?**

Chapter six: The history of the whore

The crowd was huge. Parisians all lined and squashed into the massive three ring tent. Mr. Kite was booming away about that nights preformance. Babies were plugged quiet with sugar tits, children watching in awe at the caged bear and lion off to the side, growling and pacing as best as they could.(the animals, not the children) There was an air of excitement that everyone held, their breath bated.

Except for Elvira. She was sinched tight into a pale blue costume with glitter. Her and Victoria were the first act, and if she hadn't seen it done, Elvira would have never thought it possible.

Soon enough; there was Victoria, in her matching pink costume, standing atop of Peanut, the elephant, an umbrella in her hand. Elvira sat down at the upright piano in the middle of the second ring, and began pounding the rehearsed music.

"_When I get older, losing my hair,_

_Many years from now,_

_Will you still be sending me a valentine,_

_Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?_"

The whole troupe was amazed, as Elvira admitted on the boat ride to France that she could play the piano. So it was that she would play piano while Victoria sang and did a ballerina performance atop Peanut, who walked circles around the ring, close to the crowd.

It was all surreal to Elvira. She chose to go along with it, not knowing anything else to do. Officially; she was Mr. Kite's. He owned her, though he showed her nothing but kindness. Sometimes she would think of her Girls, and Tourtga Town. Her anger flashing at the though of Jack and selling her to a circus. If she ever did get out of here, she vowed to hunt him down, and at least get the money he was paid. She was owed that much.

"_Grandchildren on your knee,_

_Vera, Chuck, and Dave,_"

Victoria was nearing her finish. Like always, she would do a back-flip off of Peanut and land gracefully by the piano. It had been done before.

"_Will you still need me?_

_Will you still feed me?_

_When I'm sixty-four?_"

The crowd clapped as she bowed, then flipped backwards.

A collective gasp of horror went out as Peanut moved slightly to the side, throwing her off balance, and landing with a definite _crack_. Mr. Kite, Elvira, and Gorge ran to the still woman. She was unconscious, though still breathing. Gorge picked her up, and after a hurried apology from Mr. Kite, they were out of the tent and into the flat they had rented, right by the ground.

"Good heavens!" Grace gasped as she opened the bedroom door that Elvira and Victoria shared; letting the men and women in. The ballerina was gently placed on the large feather bed, and blankets drawn over her.

Knowing it was a selfish though; Elvira was more concerned about the glitter on the bed, then the person wearing the glitter.

"Send for a doctor...I think she broke her back...dammit!" It was the first time Elvira had seen Mr. Kite so agitated, and angry. The other two fled the room, one in fear, the other going to fetch a doctor. Mr. Kite took of his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

"Vera?" Elvira looked up at hearing the name she had adapted.

"Yes?"

"Can you go and fetch some tea? It will be a long night," Elvira nodded and did so.

By the time she came back, a doctor had come and gone. Indeed, Victoria's back was broken. She could never walk again. Elvira and Mr. Kite decided to stay up with her, in hopes that she would wake up in the night.

"I never thought of her not being there," Mr. Kite admitted, when the tea was poured and Elvira had changed from her costume into a simply dress. They sat at the little tea table, eyes sorrow filled.

"Did you two have a...relationship?" she ventured.

"Oh no. No. But she has been there from the beginning. The troupe will seem so dull now." Elvira did like the way that Mr. Kite always referred to the people in the circus as though they were a threatre act. Not a traveling freak show(as Elvira sometimes like to call it).

Elvira found sufficient wages, other then that of the show. Claiming to go for walks in the evening, she would often slip into the more run down parts of wherever they were, and do her real work. She admitted that after a time, she needed it. Not only for the money. In every way, she was the tempest.

"She is beautiful. And she isn't dead," Elvira pointed out. Though; on close inspection, if one really looked–you could see the fine lines on Victoria's face. She was aging. She had been aging for a while.

"What about you?" Mr. Kite suddenly asked. Elvira frowned, uncrossed, and re-crossed her legs.

"What about me?"

"Where did you grow up? Did you ever have prospects? I know little of you. I think Captain Sparrow mentioned that you were a...lady of the night..." Mr. Kite coughed uncomfortably. "But you had to be something before that."

Elvira shrugged. "There isn't much to tell."

"We have time," Elvira looked up sharply. That was something she had heard aforementioned captain say.

"Indeed we do," she said rather waspishly.

"Please? I should like to hear more about you. You seem protected. Like there is a barrier around you. Or it could be my overactive imagination. Please?"

Elvira gave a wry smile. "Very well."

"I was born in London. My mother was Lady Sachrine. I didn't know my father, who died shortly after my birth. We were well off. Living in polite society. When I was sixteen, I was to be wed. Duke of something or another...I can't quite remember. We would go on one of those new marraige tours, for a few weeks. You know the ones...where you go off to foreign contries for a while...a perfect chance to get to know your spouse and see new things.

"The Duke was handsome. Oh yes. Fair skin. Fair hair. The greenest eyes in humanity. I often said that he was a child of the earth...given eyes like the leaves. Dim...I know. But he laughed at it. We were quite fond of each other." Elvira broke off and took a breath. She glanced over at the now sleeping form of Victoria. Why...if she hadn't have fallen so...they would most likely still be doing the show. Maybe Gorge and the bear; Arthos would be on...or Serge and the lion; Kitty.

"We were married. Happiest day of me young life. We started off on our marriage tour, first coming here, to France. Then we would go to Rome, Spain, Austria, and a few places besides. It was here..when...When Duke had gone off to get me a surprise. He said he wanted to get me a jewel that would outshine anything here. I...two armed officials came to the door of our inn. They found his body in the streets. All money gone. Apparently beaten so bad that they didn't want me to see it. Given my...delicate condition."

"You were pregnant?" Mr. Kite asked, taking a sip of tea, frowning into the cup.

"Yes," Elvira said flatly. "But I lost the baby right then. I had to sell everything just to get back to London. There I found that my mother had died of pnemonia while I was away. I was then destitute.

"That was when I began being the "lady of the night". I made enough money to get to Tortuga. I thought perhaps the Caribbean would hold more for me then Europe did. I was stuck in a rut, in the run down part of Tourtuga town. Soon, I made my way up on the whore food chain. I even took in a few girls. We lived in a shanty. That is...until the asshole of a captain entered out lives. I wonder if they are ok."

"You amaze me," Mr. Kite said after a minute; breaking Elvira out of her reverie.

"Sorry?"

"All this has happened...and yet...you still have a sense of humor. You still worry about others more then yourself. I think it was indeed a good day for my threatre when Captain Sparrow walked into your home."

"You may think that, Mr. Kite...but I have trouble," Elvira shrugged.


	7. Caribbean Waves

Chapter seven: Caribbean Waves

Elvira closed her eyes, the sun warm on her face, despite the chill in the air, despite the snow. She tightened the cloak around her she bought a while back, and sighed. The park was almost empty, as it was Christmas Eve. Those few who were out and around were in twos or threes, never alone. The snow crunched under their feet, and occasionally they would toss Elvira a look of pity as she sat on the bench in her black satin gown. A gown! She hadn't worn one of these in quite a while. And a corset too! But no matter how much the corset was tightened, she could still breathe. She could still feel the pain in her chest.

Her red hair was plaited, and wound up in the thick bun at her nape, giving her a regal air she would have never possessed with it loose in Tourtuga Town. The Turtle Town. She missed it so.

Now she was in Paris. Cold and wet. Christmas without her love. Christmas without anything but a troupe of freaks, and a broken heart.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Elvira shook her head, her mind on the soft leather boots Mr. Kite had gotten her–saying she needed nice things if she would be in the troupe. Ebony against the white snow.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes," Elvira said waspishly. She was becoming annoyed. She had come to this park to avoid people, and out of all the benches out of all the world, this person had to pick hers.

She looked over at his feet. He was wearing black military issued boots. He was a redcoat. A redcoat in Paris.

"No one should be alone on Christmas Eve," the person said. She finally looked up. He was a handsome man. Fair skin and hair. His eyes were a pure green. A faint image of someone stirred in her memory, but she put it out of her mind. Without a final word, Elvira stood up and walked away. She didn't want to speak to anyone at this moment. She was too busy self-pitying to care for another human being.

She turned to go to the large manor Mr. Kite had secured for them for the winter, then thought how she would have to care for Victoria when she was there.

Turning back, Elvira thought she could at least see if any stores were open.

There were a few more people about the streets, doing last minute shopping, or off to visit relatives. Elvira caught snatches of conversations here and there.

"_Non_, we are to have three ducks,"

"_Ma mere_ bought me a bottle of perfume for my wedding,"

"And I told him that if he wanted his damn blanket back, he would have to take it,"

"I am so cold, mummy...cant we go inside?"

"_Me amore_, please listen to me!"

"I love you, Fredrick,"

The last one tore at her heart. She didn't catch a glimpse of the couple, as she had her head bowed against the cold. The snow twirled in flurries, and the blacks of anything stood out. Elvira pulled up her hood, and tramped through the streets, until she came up to a small trinket shop, that was unnocupied by lovesick people.

"Welcome! Looking for something special?" A man piqued from behind the counter. Elvira shook her head and started down one of the many isles of junk. She had no one special to buy anything special.

Yes, she was in an angst mood, and she would be damned if she could be cheered up at this moment. Depression was a bitch.

"We have a few bolts of sea blue cloth over here, that would go beautifully with your hair," Elvira followed the man's gaze over the shelves and saw a few bolts of the same color in satin and brocade leaning against the counter. The color looked so much like the sea surrounding her beloved home of Tortuga.

"What is the name?" Elvira asked. Many an English person would have thought her crazy, but Paris was such a fashionably decadent town, and they even named the colors they made up, or took from someone else.

"I love it, its called; Caribbean Waves, beautiful, non? It would look dazzeling. Only certain red haired women could pull off that look, but I have never seen hair such a red color," Elvira walked over to the counter, and fingered the cloth. It was so beautiful. When she moved it, it had different hues of blue as well. Dark here, light here. Just looking at it made Elvira's skin warm, and the smell of salty air fill her lungs.

She glanced to the store owner. He was elderly, with a white goatee and long white hair, pulled back in a black satin ribbon. He wore the customary Parisian clothing, and though he must have been around sixty, bore no wrinkles; his face still handsome and having a Roman influence.

"I see that you like it," he said lightly.

"I do," Elvira whispered, looking back to the fabric. There were three in all. Two satin and a brocade. Both full and with the bands from shipping still about them.

"You are a long ways from home," the man offered.

"Yes, I am."

"My name is Jacques. Might I ask your's, _Jolis Cheveux_?" Pretty hair.

"Elvira," She said, sighing wistfully. How she wanted the fabric, but she knew in her right mind that she barely had enough money for a square inch. Everything she had was on the kindness of Mr. Kite.

"Where are you from, Elvira?" Jacques asked, leaning on the counter, and smiling warmly at her.

"The Caribbean. Tortuga,"

"Ah! The most bawdy pirate place around. I can see why you are homesick for the sun and the warmth. It must be a cold slap in the face to be in this snow. What brings you all the way here?"

"My story is a long involved one, Monsieur Jacques," Elvira usually would have been snappish and irritated by someone asking so many questions. Now, she was merely weary, and somewhat warmed that someone cared enough to ask about her. This man had such a nice smile, and such warm eyes.

"Well then, why don't we have a cup of tea? Unless you have a love waiting for you?"

"Hardly," Elvira rolled her eyes, but tea sounded deliciously inviting, and she could use its taste and strength.

"Then lets have a drink," Jacques said determinedly. He drew up a small stool behind the counter for himself, and offered her the padded settee. She finally got a look around and saw that there was a little eat in kitchen behind the register, with a Dutch oven, stove adorned with a billy can, and one cabinet. It was quite cozy. After Jacques put the billy can on to boil, and set out two mugs and tea, he bustled over to the door and turned the sign from open to closed.

"I don't want you to close shop just for me," Elvira protested, making to get up, but Jacques tisked her back down, and offered to take her cloak.

"You are wearing too much black," He said affirmatively, placing her coat on a rack. "You should wear something else unless you are in mourning, are you?"

"No, no. I have no one to really mourn," she smiled.

"So, tell me," Jacques passed her a mug filled with steaming tea, and two lumps of sugar, just how she liked it. "Why are you in Paris?"

"Well... as bluntly and in the least amount of words; I was a whore in Tortuga, until I met up with Jack Sparrow. He bet me that I couldn't be a lady, and after a month he would come and see. A month later, I was at his friends house, and had just escaped from a greusome dinner party. I went into a tavern for a drink, and started talking to a man I didn't know till later was a pimp. Jack came in, saw me with him, they had a brawl. Then, Jack shanghaied me, and sold me to a circus run by a man named Mr. Kite, in England. We have traveled here to Paris, but at a performances, one of our leading ladies broke her back, and he have been stuck here ever since,"

Elvira finished, and took a sip of tea, looking over the rim of her mug at the stunned Jacques. He was blinking rapidly, then a grin broke out over his face.

"The moment you walked into my store, I knew you were different," He laughed. "Yes, I can see why you should miss your home, I suppose. And is this Jack Sparrow..._the _Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl?"

"The very same," Elvira nodded.

"Wow. Tell you what, I will give you all three of the bolts, for free, just for telling me such a great and to the point story,"

It was now Elvira's turn to stare dumbly at the man.

"But you would loose a fortune!" Elvira finally sputtered.

"Not in my eyes," Jacques shrugged. "I think it is well paid for. I can only hope that you will make it back to your home. Maybe with Caribbean Waves on your back, you will sail home." He took a sip, looking thoughtful for a moment.

"Did you care for Jack Sparrow?" he suddenly asked. Elvira choked on her tea. "No, I am serious. When you said his name, a sort of emotion shot into your eyes. I can't name it to save my life, but it was very strange, and very sentimental."

"He is a pirate," Elvira said cooly. "He sold me to the bloody circus! The day I care for him, is the day that pig fly!" Jacques chuckled, stood up and walked over to the window. He started out of the pane windows, and then suddenly looked up to the sky theatrically.

"Look! Up there in the sky! Its pigs!" He busted up laughing at his own joke, then sobered at Elvira's expression.

"I am truly sorry. I must have misread that for hatred. My eyes are terrible. Perhaps you should go back, before this Mr. Kite of yours becomes worried that you have run off."

Elvira stood up, and made to decline the bolts of cloth–though her mind didn't want to–but they were shoved into her arms before she could protest.

"I hope you go home," Jacques repeated, getting the door for her, as she was walking out, her chin resting on the top bolt.

"I do too," Elvira sighed.

"You will," Jacques pressed. "And you will give Jack Sparrow a good kick where it hurts for me alright? As payment,"

With that, Elvira left the shop; in shock at her treasures, and somewhat heartened about her brief, yet touching talk with this strange man. She would most likely never see him again, but she would always–she was more certain about this then the skin on her nose–always remember him.


End file.
